


And I Will Try To Fix You

by Rowan12628



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Gambling, Sad nerds, Science, Self-Destruction, Slow Burn, Stars, Underage Drinking, edgy assholes, i love them, my children deserve happiness, they help each other tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan12628/pseuds/Rowan12628
Summary: A Tasha-centric Zapatterson High School AU"Do you believe in God?"God hasn't done shit for me. Besides, who needs God when we have each other?"





	1. When You Try Your Best, But You Don't Succeed

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, I have had this brewing since, like, season one. So, if there are any inconsistencies with the later canon, that is why.  
> I was planning on putting this out when I had a few more chapters done (so far I only have two), but I figured if I don't do it now, I never will.
> 
> I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are mine and I apologise.  
> Also, I do not know Spanish, I used Google Translate, so I am sorry if I got any of it wrong.
> 
> This is set in the 90s because? That would have been when the team was at school I think? So yay
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Blindspot, I just really love these nerds uwu

  It was very early in the morning when Tasha Zapata returned home, an exhausted, yet triumphant look on her face. The wad of probably dirty cash in her pocket meant that her brother could have a decent meal today. And tomorrow. And the next day. She could probably even pay this month's rent! Tonight had been great.

  Her ID was obviously fake- she couldn't afford a good one-, but they didn't care enough to look at it closely. Not to mention the mountains of make-up and extremely provocative skirt she was wearing, making her look years older than 15.

  Silently, she snuck through the faulty back door that no-one had ever bothered to fix and crept up the stairs to the room she shared with her 10 year old brother.

  "Tash? Why are you back so late?" a small voice asked from the corner of the room, to which Tasha smiled.

  Walking over to Matías' bed and avoiding the question, she knelt down on the hard wooden floor, which, in retrospect, was a very bad idea. It wrecked her knees.

  "You want Domino's pizza tonight?" 

  "We can't afford Domino's pizza, Tash," scoffed her brother, pulling his faded Spiderman covers over his head.

  "We can today." Tasha grinned, pulling the money out of her jacket pocket. "I love Blackjack."

  Slowly pulling the covers down from over his head, a large smile spread over Matías' face. "You won?"

  She didn't intend for him to know- she wanted him to stay as far away from it as possible- but when he caught her one night sneaking in at 4am, her mascara scarring her cheeks and empty pockets, she couldn't invent a lie quick enough.

  "I'm offended that you doubted me, hermanito." the young girl laughed quietly, ruffling her brother's hair. "Now get back to sleep. You have school in the morning."

  She carefully and quietly tucked the money under her mattress, before making her way to the bathroom.

  "Night, Tashy." she heard as she closed the door.

\-------------------------------------

  Sighing, Tasha stood in front of the mirror. She stared at the fake girl who looked back at her, scared. She didn't know when she had become this person: the person that snuck out every night to gamble, hoping only to be able to bring back a little money so her brother could eat. The breadwinner. If only she actually won more often.

  Grabbing a make-up wipe, she started to remove the exaggerated cosmetics from her face. She had to be quick so that she could maybe get a wink of sleep before school tomorrow... today.

  If given a choice, Tasha wouldn't be going to school at all. If she didn't turn up, no-one would be bothered enough to look for her and force her to attend, and it wasn't like she was going anywhere in life, anway. But she needed to set a good example for Matías. He had a future: he was bright. And Tasha would do whatever it took to get him on the right track. In a year, she could quit and get a job; they wouldn't care enough to check on her, even if it was technically illegal.

  Once Tasha had finally finished removing the laughable amount of make-up from her face, she looked at herself and couldn't help but hate what she saw. She didn't think she was particulary pretty, but that had never really bothered her. What bothered her was the dark bags under her eyes and the disgusting stench of alcohol that she had accumulated on her late-night travels. It wasn't like she drank- much- but her gambling 'buddies' all did, and the smell stuck to her. Although Tasha knew she needed to get clean, she figured she could shower in the morning before school.

  She quickly chucked the wipes in the bin, hoping her madre wouldn't empty it, until she had the chance to do it herself- on her own bed and instantly falling unconscious.

  C'est la vie.

\--------

  "Natasha Zapata, get your _maldito_ ass out of bed right now!" were the rude words to which Tasha was woken up. She would have flinched at the sound of her full name, had she not been completely out of it, still mostly asleep.

  "Dios mio, 5 more minutes, por favor," Tasha groaned, burying her face further into her pillow.

  "Tashy, you should get up. She's angry again. Really angry this time." a small hand shook her shoulder, begging her to awaken from her half-dead state of unawareness.

  "¡Mierda! Is she hungover again? Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" she asked frantically, scrambling to sit up, now wide awake. It didn't take a thorough examination to spot what had happened. Her baby brother had a red hand-shaped mark on his cheek. "¡Esa puta!"

  "Tashy. I'm fine. We need to get ready for school. And watch your language." Matías smiled, obviously trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

  _How could I have let this happen?_ Tasha thought. _I should have been awake to protect him! This is my fault! I hate myself I hate myself I hate-_

  "Matías! Natasha!" this time Tasha did flinch. "¡Consiga el infierno para arriba ahora! ¡No te voy a llevar a la escuela si llegas tarde al autobús!"

  Deciding it would be best not to piss of their hungover mother even more, the two siblings got ready for school. Tasha offered Matías some make up to cover up the redness on his cheek, but he declined, insisting "I'll say I got in a fight. The other kids will think it's cool."

  Tasha wanted to kill her _madre_ for laying a finger on her baby brother, but she knew it wouldn't do either of them any good. Because her _mother_ was hungover, and when she was hungover, she got pissed, and when she was pissed... bad things happened. The mark on Matías' face and the bruises on her arms from last time were proof of that. She didn't want her hermanito to be hurt anymore.

  Quickly hopping in the shower, Tasha only now realised how tired she actually was. She definitely wasn't going to last the whole school day, she knew that from experience. Oh, well. It wasn't like she was going to miss anything important. It was school, how could it possibly be worth listening to?

  She dressed in her usual attire: high ponytail, black tank top, black ripped black jeans, black combat boots. Black everything. _Like my soul,_ she thought, laughing to herself, then, _Jesus Christ, you sound like a fucking emo. Stop it_.

  The bus ride was uneventful, as always. Despite a few crude comments and paper airplanes hitting her in the back of the head, nothing happened.

  Until, finally, they arrived at Hell- sorry, school. Time to wish she was dead for seven hours.  



	2. When You Get What You Want, But Not What You Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeting some more of the gang uwu
> 
> Thanks for the nice comments last chapter, I really appreciate it!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Blindspot

  
  Tasha weaved through the minefields of teenagers, scanning the yard for Reade, her best friend.

  She and Reade had known each other for years and, after their initial rivalry, become inseparable. They were in evey class together, and he was the one person she went to with her problems. Not _all_ her problems, obviously, she wasn't quite so incapable, but he was always willing to help.

  She had almost reached him when a voice called out: "Natasha!"

__Oh, shit._ _

  Tasha put her head down and shoved her hands further into her pockets, hoping that her shortness would come in handy for once and disguise her in the masses of people.

  "Zapata! Hey! Don't ignore me!" the voice yelled again.

  The 18 year old owner of the voice sauntered up to the girl, cockily slinging his arm around her shoulder and forcing her to his side.

  "Leave me alone, Randy," Tasha commanded, trying to pull away from him. Being much smaller than him, though, she had a disadvantage.

Tightening his grip around her to hold her in place, he laughed coolly. To anyone else, it would seem like they were just close friends having a conversation, but Tasha knew this was definitely not the case.

  "You owe me-"

  "I know, and I'll get it to you." she cut him off. "I have it and I'll get it to you by tomorrow. I promise, okay?"

  "You 'promised' the last two times. I'm gonna have to start charging you interest." He laughed as if it was a joke, but the coldness in his eyes told her it was anything but.

  "Look, I'll get it to you, I swear. Now leave me alone or people are gonna think we're friends." She insisted, finally pushing him off her.

  "I'd say we were more than friends, Tashy," Randy winked, making Tasha clench her fists to stop from punching him and getting suspended- again.

  "Yeah, enemies, maybe," she muttered furiously as he swaggered off.

  Shaking her head angrily, Tasha stormed off to where Reade was waiting impatiently, a confused look on his face. She brushed him off when he asked what had happened. God, he was always so infuriatingly concerned for her. He should learn to look out for himself, or life was going to kick him in the crotch. Tasha had learned that the hard way.

  They walked together to their form room, Reade being careful not to scuff or dirty his suit ("Who wears a suit to school, Edgar?" "It's called having class, Zapata.") and Tasha trying to push him into mud and puddles whenever the opportunity arose.

\-------------------------------------

Tasha's first lesson after form was Science, which she really only taken as an option because she had an extra space to fill, and thought she could bullshit it. Apparently not. But it wasn't like she cared about her grades at all. She had more important things to worry about than how clever a few adults thought she was.

  However, when Tasha walked into the classroom, expecting to go through the same hour of mundane bullshit as usual, she stopped dead in her tracks. Sat at the usually unoccupied desk at the front of the classroom was a beautiful blonde girl she had never seen before. She must have been new, Tasha thought. Surely she would have remembered seeing such a... memorable person.

  With short, golden hair tucked behind her ears, and sparkling blue eyes, she looked just like a Disney princess. Her long skirt and buttoned up shirt suited her perfectly, and her notebooks, pencil case, and stationery lined up on the desk in front of her all fit the same aesthetic as her- smart, and very, very pretty.

  Ducking her head down, she quickly moved to her seat at the back of the room, next to Reade- who else?- shaking her head to be rid of the stupid thoughts. There was no point thinking about pretty girls. No time for that shit.

  Even if the girl in question was currently looking back at Tasha, and flashing her a brilliant smile...

  _Fuck._

_\----------------------------------------_

As soon as class ended, Tasha darted out of the room, anxious to get to her next class and away from... whatever that was.

  The girl had been introduced at the start of the lesson as "Patterson"- that was her surname, apparently she didn't want people knowing her first name- and she had been plaguing Tasha's mind the whole hour. She couldn't even concentrate on not concentrating.

  All she knew was that she hadn't even spoken to the girl yet, and she was _fucked._

It didn't help that Reade had noticed her odd mood and was constantly bugging her with raised eyebrows and dumbass questions- "What's wrong?" "Why are you blushing?" "Is it the new girl?" "Quit staring at her, Zapata, damn."  


  Yep. Totally fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!  
> Please review!
> 
> -Rowan x

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it so far! Next chapter should be soon!  
> Please review!
> 
> -Rowan x


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